


The Dance of the Damned

by mamasam67



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamasam67/pseuds/mamasam67
Summary: An unexpected call from a friend causes the guys to dive head on into case that has them wondering why three entities are hell bent on going after their friends.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Its a Sunny Day

**The Dance for the Damned**

**Chapter 1: It's A Sunny Day**

**i**

**Clanking and banging echoed throughout the bunker. At first, Sam didn’t know what to think. He laid there listening for more sounds. Nothing. Turning over onto his stomach, Sam pulls his pillow closer to him. Nudging his head back and forth on the pillow, settling on a soft spot. He finally felt comfortable enough to go back to sleep. He was on the brink where reality was just about faded and dream land was edging in. When, out of no where, another crash echoed through out the bunker. If he didn’t know any better, Sam could of sworn, the crash was right next to his head.**

**Sitting up harshly, Sam flings the sheet off of him, twists and lands his feet hard on the floor. Standing up, he stomps to his bedroom door, twisting the door knob with a flick of his wrist. He pulled it open hard, catching it in his other hand, with a slap. He leans his head out in the hallway. Looking both ways, he sighed. Empty. Bowing his head as he shook his head. Causing all of his shaggy hair to fall in front of his face. Standing there for a minute, he rocks his head back and forth, before taking a deep breath and yells;**

**“What the hell are you doing Dean!?”**

**A muffle yell came back, “I'm trying to cook breakfast.”**

**“So whats the problem?”, Sam asked knowing that was a loaded question.**

**Another muffle sound came. Sam could tell Dean was saying something, but it sounded like he was a million miles away.**

**Irritated Sam shouted, “Dean, I can't freaking hear you.”**

**This time Dean didn’t reply. Listening closely, quiet filled the hallway. There wasn't even a muffle coming from the kitchen. Extending his arm out, the bedroom door slammed against the wall. Thoroughly aggravated, all Sam wanted to was sleep in just a little. An hour or two wasn't so much to ask. Not having to deal with any bullshit or drama just some much needed rest.**

**Running his hand through his hair, he walked down the hall. Still listening for Dean.**

**“DEAN!?”**

**Silence.**

**“DEAN...WHATS THE HELL IS GOING ON?”**

**Again silence.**

**“DEAN?!!”**

**Sam's heart leaped in his chest. Something was wrong. Dean was just answering him just a minute ago. Now he wasn't. Running down the hallway, he rounded the corner of the kitchen, losing his footing. Looking down moments before he hit the floor, was flour. It was everywhere. A look of 'Ah shit' came over his face. Sam never had a chance. His feet came out from underneath him, causing his long legs to fly up into the air. With a thud, he landed square on his back. All the air in his lungs, swooshed out in one loud grunt.**

**Laying there, Sam gulps in air. Feeling the air slowly fill his lungs, he turns his head and looks over at Dean. He couldn’t help himself, a slow grin came across his face. The scene that sat before him was priceless. Pure Dean. Not being able to keep it in, he started to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that came from deep within. The laugh that you reserve only when a sibling has totally screwed up. Sam's only wish in that moment, was a camera.**

**There sitting on the floor, with his back resting against the shelves inside refrigerator, was Dean. Milk had tipped over, and poured over the top of his head with a lot of flour mixed in. There wasn’t a place on his head, face, and upper torso that wasn’t drenched. It was a comedy of errors, that would of made Jerry Lewis proud.**

**All of this happened, because Dean was reaching for a 2 pound bag of flour. It so happened that the bag, sat on top of a seven foot frig. Looking around, and not finding anything he could stand on, he huffed to himself. Standing there, he debated with himself, whether or not to yell for Sam, to get it for him. Deciding quickly against it. He didn’t want the ribbing Sam would give him for not being able to reach for the bag. It wasn’t worth it.**

**Standing on his tippy toes, stretching with all his might, he unable to grab it. He opened up the refrigerator door, placing his boot inside the bottom of the frig. Stepping up, reaching with his finger tips, Dean begins to pull on a torn piece of bag of flour toward him. That when his boot slipped.**

**Attempting to keep from falling, Dean let go the bag. It landed on its side on top of** **frig, spilling the flour from the bag. His feet got caught up in the flour on the floor. Which caused him to trip over them. Before he knew it, he turned around in time to** **land hard on his ass with his back up against the refrigerator. The sudden jarring caused the milk to tip over, The lid snapped off and pour over him and the flour. Dean looked like, he was dipped in pancake batter.**

**Narrowing his eyes in defeat, he looked over at Sam. Shaking his head at him, as the milk dripped from his chin and all of the 2 pound bag of flour cover him. A look of 'Don't you dare' across his face. Waving his finger at him. Of course this doesn’t deter Sam.**

**Laughing and coughing, Sam finally spits out; “Hey dough boy, you okay over there.”**

**Dean didn’t say anything in return. He just glared at him. Sam slowly sits up, stretching his back, catching his breath. Standing up and dusting off the flour, he smiles as his reaches his hand out to Dean. Glaring at Sam for a moment, then grabs slapping it hard. Making sure both their hands stung for good measure.**

**After pulling Dean up on his feet, Sam takes a good look around the kitchen. It was a disaster area. Flour seemed to be every where. Not to mention the milk on the floor that was turning the it into some kind of paste. Shaking his head, he brotherly slaps Dean on his back.**

**“Want to go out and eat?” Sam asked.**

**Dean looked up at him. Then around the room. A smirk slowly went up.**

**“Damn that sounds good. Give me half to get cleaned up.”**

**Watching Dean turn around and go down the hallway, he looks over the kitchen again. Letting out a long sigh, Sam decided he better clean up this mess, so it doesn’t set. If he left it to Dean, it would probably be plaster by the time he had gotten around to cleaning it up. Sam was half way done when Dean's cell phone began to ring.**

**Moving to the counter, picking it up, he looks down at the phone. 785-555-6121. He didn’t recognize the number. Shrugging it off, he sent it to Dean's voice mail, and finished the kitchen. About ten minutes later, Dean's phone rang again. Taking a couple of steps to the hallway, Sam looked down the hall to see if Dean was coming. Looking back over at the counter, he huffed. Reaching over, he tapped the screen. Sending it to voice mail again.**

**Looking at the number more closely, Sam could see it was a local number. Somewhere here in Lebanon. Smirking to himself, maybe it was a girl. Ten minutes went by when the phone rang again. Sam narrowed his eyes on the screen of the phone.**

**“785-555-6121.”**

**Shaking his head, he whispered; “Dude, if this is a girl, she's got it bad.”**

**Sam took two massive steps to the edge of the hallway. Staring toward their rooms, still no Dean. He heard the phone go to voice mail. Leaning up against the door facing, Sam began to wondered if maybe this might be important. This was the fourth time the same number called Dean's phone within an hour.**

**Raising his voice, he shouted “Dean, are you almost done?”**

**A door opened, echoing down the empty hallway. With a towel wrapped around his head, Dean popped his head out of his bedroom door.**

**“Naw, give me another half.”**

**“Well to let you know, your cell has been ringing off the hook for the past hour.”**

**There were silence, for a moment. Sam could see by all the facial expressions, Dean was trying to think who it could be.**

**“Local number?”**

**“Yeah.”**

**“Huh.”**

**Silence again echoed through the hallway. A few seconds passed before Dean spoke again. In a nonchalant way, he half yelled;**

**“If it rings again, answer it. If its important come get me. If not take a message.”**

**With that, Sam heard the door slam echo toward him. Frustrated, he turns and walks over to the metal table in the center of the room, and sits down. Staring at the phone, his curiosity was at an all time high. Why wasn’t Dean concerned about the phone call? Evidently, whoever was calling Dean, needs to talk to him. Shrugging it off, there was no sense to be worried about it. If Dean wasn’t worried, why should he?**

**Sitting there, continuing to stare at the cell phone, Sam noticed fifteen minutes went by, and still no phone call. Sam was beginning to wonder if whoever was trying to reach Dean, gave up. Deciding to forget about it, he need to focus on kicking Dean's ass in gear. He was starving. 'Beautifying time is over with.' Before he could act on that thought, the phone rang. Instantly reaching and answered it**

**“This is Dean's phone.”**

**There was a puff of air that blew through the phone before the person on the other end answered. It sound like whoever it was, let out all air in their lungs in one short huff.**

**“Uh, is Dean Winchester there?”**

**Sam listen closely to the other end. He could tell by the tone there was a sense of urgency in the man's voice.**

**“Ah, he's not available. Is there something I can help you with? My name is Sam and I'm Dean's brother.”**

**Seconds ticked away as the silence echoed in the phone line. Then the voice spoke, “Oh okay...uh...listen. My name is Leon. We have a mutual friend, Sunny. She told me to call Dean.”**

**There was a sudden commotion going on in the back ground. Sam couldn’t quite make out the sounds. But what ever it was, wasn’t good. A few seconds later, the guy come back on the phone. Out of breath and excited.**

**“Sh, sh, she's in trouble. Sunny said only your brother knew what to do, and that this was right up his alley.”**

**'Right up his alley. 'Must be something supernatural going on.' Right off the bat, he knows Dean is going to want to check it out. Especially, if he knows this Sunny girl.**

**“Okay man, text me the address. I'll tell him what is going on.”**

**“Thank you Sam, I'll let Sunny know. Please hurry though okay?...”**

**Before Sam could respond, the phone went dead.**

**ii.**

**Sucking up every bit of the two half’s hours and the one extra, Dean was finally ready to go. It took him a long time to get the batter off of him. It was in every nook and cranny he had. Then for some reason, it took him a while to figure out what he wanted to wear. Finally deciding on his usual dress, boots, jeans, t-shirt, and he choose the gray flannel. Looking at himself, he didn’t know why he was so nervous. Giving himself one more once over in the mirror. Satisfied, he heads for the kitchen.**

**When Dean rounded the corner. There stood Sam, standing at the counter. Dressed and ready to go. Taking a look around the kitchen, he could see that Sam was kind** **enough to clean up the mess he had made. Smiling to himself, it felt good that Sam was trying to take care of him.**

**Clearing his throat, he gets Sam's attention. “Hey dude, I mean, wow. You didn’t have too. Th...”**

**Sam interrupts him; “No problem Dean.” Quickly he turns the topic from the kitchen to the phone call,“Listen, They call back again. So this time I answered.”**

**“Telemarketer or some other shit huh?”**

**“Well no, a man called Leon was calling on the behalf of a lady named Sunny.”**

**Dean suddenly came to attention, “What did the dude want?”**

**“To tell you that she was in trouble, and making it a point to say it was something that only you can handle. That it was right up your alley.”**

**The blood rushed out of Dean's face, “You did get an address right?”**

**Sam's eyebrows raise up, to the point the three wrinkles were showing, “Yeah?”**

**“Lets go now! Trust me Sammy, if Sunny is saying that its up my alley, she's in major trouble.”**

**Pulling his phone out of his pocket. “If that’s the case, then its a good thing she only lives ten minutes away.”**

**Grabbing the phone out of Sam's hand. Dean takes a really good look at it. Shaking his head, he recognizes the address.**

**“We need to go now!”, Dean threw the phone at him.**

**Sam stood there and for a moment and watched Dean hurry out the kitchen door, toward the garage, without so much as an explanation. It took him about a minute to realize that he needed to catch up or sure as shit, Dean would leave him.**

**The whole time driving over to where Sunny was, Dean didn’t say a word. He just drove. Fast. Sam was wondering who this chick was. She had to mean something to Dean for him to run to her. But for him, he didn’t know anything about her. Until today, he had never heard of her. Sam watched Dean as he drove. Whoever she was, Dean knew exactly where she lived. Not once did he asked, which way?**

**Pulling up, Dean doesn’t hesitate jumping out of the Impala and running up on the** **porch. Sam follows Dean's lead, however trying to keep some distance. That way, he** **would be able to back him up, if needed.**

**Dean knock loudly on the door. There was no answer. Turning the door knob, it was locked. This time he decided to knock and ring the door bell, at the same time. It worked. The door was hurriedly opened by a woman in her mid thirty’s, with short black hair and a little boy her hip. He instantly recognized who it was.**

**Dean blushed a little. Which caused Sam's curiosity to rise. As he started heading in through the door, without asking, Dean said, “Hey there Dorothy, long time huh?”**

**The woman looked up and smiled. “Yeah, too bad it's under these circumstances.”**

**She turned and followed Dean in as Sam followed in total amazement. It seemed to Sam, as if her and Dean knew each other for years. There in the living room was a preschooler and a baby. The man, Dean and Sam both assumed to be Dorothy's husband Leon, was sitting on the couch holding the baby. Dean nodded his head toward him. Leon in return nodded his back.**

**There was suddenly a large crash that shook the whole house. Followed by a loud thud, and scream. Then someone yelling. Dean and Sam looked at each other, then at Leon. Without missing a beat, Dean asked;**

**“Where is Sunday?”**

**Leon stood up, with his child in his arms, he pointed up stairs, in a rather small voice, “She's upstairs to the right, the last door at the end of the hallway.”**

**Not thinking twice, both Dean and Sam headed up the stairs. When they reached the top, they could feel the air suddenly turn cold. The hallway lights were in a constant state of flickering. Sam pulled out his EMF meter and starts checking the area around him. The closer they got to the end of the hallway, the higher the meter would go. All the classic signs of a ghost.**

**When they get to the end of the hallway. Sam motion for Dean to go on. He stood there in front of the door, unsure of what to do next. Reaching out. Dean tapped on the door.**

**“Sunny, are you in there?”**

**The door knob began to turn, causing the guys to squeeze tighter on their guns.**

**It opened wide enough until the latch chain to caught it. Making sure that the door could not open no wider that a couple of inches A huge brown eye, with really long** **eye lashes, peered out the small sliver. Scanning both men from head to toe, as they stood staring at the crack.**

**“Dean 'o', is that you?”**

**“Yeah, its me Sunny.”**

**“Thank Heavens.”, her forehead hitting the door. “Ow.”**

**Dean's eyebrows lifted up in a playful response to her hitting her head. Then squared them before he asked,**

**“Uh...Do you want to let us in?”**

**A forced laugh came out the crack of the door. Then whispered:**

**“I wish I could, but this is about as far as it will let me.”**

**Dean looked up at Sam and frowned. He shrugged back.**

**Moving in closer to the door, “What won't let you?”**

**“Whatever it is that has decided to keep me in this damn room!” She whispered angrily.**

**Listening to the conversation, Sam looked over top of Dean. He could clearly see in the room. It was in total shambles. Taking a quick glance down at his feet, he can see her fingers picking at something white. It was the salt lining the bottom of the door.**

**“Uh Sunny, My name is Sam. I'm Dean's brother.”**

**Pushing her face against the door, Sunny let her one eye wonder up past Dean. There in front of the crack, looking down from at her, was a mountain of a man. He towered over Dean by a couple of inches. His hair was long and deep brown. He had the most innocent hazel eyes.**

**Attempting to smile, Sunny weakly said, “Hi.”**

**“I see that you laid some salt along the door. Have you put yourself within a circle?”**

**“Yeah. It was one of the first things I did. It's keeping it away, but it keeps throwing things at me.”**

**Shaking his head in amusement, Dean asked, “Okay, give us a few minutes to figure out how to get you.”**

**Sunny shook her head okay, as she slowly closed the door. Breathing out a silent breath, hoping that they hurried up. The ghost's aim was getting better. She was able to dodge most of the objects it had tossed at her. That was until about five minutes ago, when the alarm clock managed to hit her in the head.**

**While Sunny waited on what they were going to do. Dean had grabbed Sam and went down the stairs. Both Dorothy and Leon stood up at once, when the guys reached the bottom. Dean smiled at them and gave them the signal to hold on for a minute.**

**Whispering to Sam; “We're you able to get a look?”**

**“A little, she definitely has salt all over the place.”**

**“No wonder it's pissed. If someone kept throwing salt on me, I'd would throw shit at her too.”**

**Sam snickered, “Dean.”**

**“What?”**

**Sam didn’t respond, he stood there shaking his head. Dean meant well, he knew this. But, sometimes he didn’t have a filter.**

**Offering more information, Sam whispered, “It also seems that she's stuck were she is. The ghost has her pinned down. It was only a glance, but it looked like all the furniture was around her. “**

**“Is it trying to keep her from moving...Or better yet, to keep her from leaving?”**

**“Could be.”**

**Glancing up the stairs, he moves over to where Leon and Dorothy was at. Looking down at the kids and then around him, Dean could see they were pure apple pie. He had to get the kids out of the house, but how?**

**Following Dean over, Sam could see that he was preoccupied. Taking this opportunity, Sam leans in with his hand out toward Leon, to shake.**

**“Sorry for just bursting in, My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean.”**

**Returning the hand shake, Sam smiled down at Leon. He seemed to be the all American fifty-something dad. Bald on the top and slim down his torso. What hair he did have was brown. Sam suddenly associated him to being the female Olive Oil. He was just that thin.**

**“Can I ask both of you a few questions?”**

**It was Dorothy how spoke up first, “How are u going to get her out?”**

**She eyed him from the bottom of his feet to the top of his head. It caused Sam to internally yelp. She was a short stout woman. Curves upon Curves. She reminded Sam of a Jane Russell. Her hair was black and short. Her deep brown eyes were pointed into a scowl.**

**“We're working on it.” Dean growled.**

**Not understanding what was going on between the woman and Dean, Sam ignores them both and continues.**

**“How long has this been going on?”**

**“Since four this morning.” Leon eagerly answered.**

**Turning his wrist to see the time, Sam noted that it been going on for about four hours. Looking over at Dean, he motioned four with his fingers. Sam turned back around and continued with his questions. Looking for some leads on what could be haunting Sunday.**

**Dean began snooping around the living room. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for, but he knew once he seen it, he would know. Looking on the fireplace, he found a card with an American flag on it. Instantly knowing what it was, he picked it up and turned it over. On the card it read:**

**Bryon Willis**

**March 1, 1979 – October 17, 2019**

**“Only the good die young.”**

**Clearing his throat, Dean asked, “How did Bryon die?”**

**There was silence in the room. Not even the children uttered a sound. Dean narrowed his eyes at Dorothy. Waiting for any answer. It was Leon who spoke first.**

**"Car accident. We had his funeral was yesterday.”**

**Letting the information sink in, Dean placed the card back on the mantle. His eye wandered around the room. Immediately noticing the plants. Lowering them, his eyes catch his picture with a candle on coffee table.**

**With an unusually low voice; “Did you had the wake here?”**

**Holding back the tears, Dorothy answered; “Yes we did. As you remember, Bryon didn’t have any family. Well any that cared. So we had it here.”**

**The room stayed usually quiet. Sam looked at Dean, knowing his mannerisms, this** **Willis dude must have been someone he knew.**

**“How did Sunny take it?” Dean asked, heavyhearted.**

**“You know how close they were, how do you think she took it?**

**Dean didn’t respond. He stood there shaking his head in agreement. Those two definitely had a bond. There was no denying it. Bryon was like a brother to her, The prankster of the group. Before he could ask another question, Dorothy continued.**

**“She didn’t stay long.”**

**“Huh?”**

**“Jackson, brought some whiskey, so they left. She didn’t come home until...I think it was about, two this morning. (narrowing her eyes) Drunk off her ass.”**

**This perked Sam's ears. “Did she say anything that seemed off or weird?”**

**“She was going on about Byron being buried in potter's field. That he deserved much better.”** **(A thought suddenly occurred to her.)** **“Then...Oh yeah...Yeah that’s right, Sunday was going on about a beautiful card that was left. It didn’t make much sense. Then it was about how they were so stupid. Something about singing and dancing, But she didn’t say why.”**

**Sam narrowed his eyebrows, a thought occurred to him. Dismissing it at first. But being stupid, singing and dancing kept replaying in his head. Then it hit him, Nodding his head toward the stairs, Sam motioned for Dean. Meeting up at the bottom of stairs. Dean instantly knew what Sam was thinking.**

**“She'd never go off, get drunk, and conger a spirit. No matter who it is. She's not like that Sam. Trust me, that isn’t something she would do.”**

**“How do you even know her Dean? Until today, I've never heard of her.”**

**Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t know everyone I know Sam. Just trust me on this. She would never knowingly conjure a spirit.”**

**“How can you be so sure?”**

**“Why would she? When all she has to do is talk to them.” Dean replied flatly.**

**“She's medium?”**

**Pausing for a minute, Dean looked around him, making sure Dorothy and Leon stayed where they left them.**

**“Sort of...More clairvoyant. Listen I'll tell you all about her later. But right now, we need to get her out of the room.”**

**Deciding he needed to speak to Dorothy in private. Dean called her over to them. Hoping that her husband would stay with the kids. He did.**

**“Dorothy...you haven’t had any signs of any kind of a spirit or ghost?”**

**“No...This house is brand new Dean. No one has ever lived here. No one has died here. Not even a chance of a poltergeist, one, two, or three. Nothing has ever been buried here.”**

**Sam stood there in shock. He didn’t have a clue she even knew about ghosts or poltergeists. Before he could stop himself he blurted out;**

**“Your a hunter!?”**

**“Shh. Please lower your voice.” Dorothy leaned into the center and in a whisper;** **“A long time ago.”**

**Looking over at Dean, Sam directed the question to Dorothy; “Is Sunny a hunter?”**

**“Researcher...She never liked hunting. But she is very familiar in what to do.”**

**A panicked voice surfaces for the first time since they got there.**

**“My husband hasn’t got a clue and I don’t want him too. Right now I have Leon believing she is going off the deep end because of Byron. And besides, it was hard enough trying to explain why she wanted all the salt in the house. He...he couldn’t cope. So...I told him she had lost it...grieving or what not. Leon bought it. Okay?” (Her voice turning rough.) “So whatever happens, he cant find out about anything about hunting, spirits or anything that goes bump. Understand?”**

**A sudden rush of anger flooded Dean. He was pissed that she was more worried about what her husband knows than worry about Sunny.**

**“What the hell Dorothy? How do you think we can go about helping Sunny and not letting your hubby in on the (quoting the air) 'secret.'”**

**“Listen...I built a life here. I have three kids to think about, as well as my husband. She's my best friend Dean. I don’t ever want to see anything happening to her. But** **she knows how I feel. She knows what needs to be done to keep this out of my family's life.”**

**“Your a cold-heart bit...”**

**“Dean!”**

**“Come on Sam. What the hell?”**

**“I'm sorry Dean, I've been out of the hunt too long to be pulled back in and I won't. I love Sunny. She knows that. That's why she had us call you.” (Narrowing her eyes as well as her lips.) “Like she said, only you can help her. Now...I'm going to take Leon and the kids to the store. We're gonna be gone for about two hours.”**

**With that said she turned around and went into living room. Gathering all of her family together and out the door they went. Leaving Sam and Dean standing at the stairs wondering, what the hell just happened?**

**Pushing aside what was said, Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder as he headed up the stairs.**

**“Well, lets see if we can get this poltergeist ganked.”**


	2. Hello There Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has an idea involving some maneuvering on Sunny's behalf.

Chapter 2: Hello there Stranger

i

Sitting there against the bedroom wall, Sunny had a sock held up against her head. Holding it against a wound that was created, when the alarm clock hit her side of her head. Searching around her, she made sure that the salt lines were still in place. Shaking a near empty salt box, she filled in some of the spots that seem to be disappearing.

Sighing, she sat it down next to her. She was feeling anxious. Between the spirit, not remembering and wanting out of there. Add the fact she had to reach out and ask for help. Her nervousness level was on a all time high. All this waiting wasn't helping things. Sitting idle was one of her biggest flaw. She was always going ninety to nothing. So sitting there was killing her, Second flaw? The same as the first, waiting. Especially waiting on someone to help her.

Letting her breath slowly out, Sunny tried to keep herself calm. As she did, her mind wandered. Sunny couldn't figure out how the hell she had even gotten herself in this mess. She had gotten way too drunk last night and completely blacked out. Straining to bring into focus what happened. There was only bits and pieces that came to her. What Sunny could remember was how upset she was over Bryon's graves. He deserved so much better. Whispering to no one in particular;

“A pauper grave...bullshit!”

Rerunning some of the nights events that she could remember. The first image that came to her was the beautiful black card. The poem in the card made her feel so hopeful. That one day, they were all going to be together again and dance. It truly was a beautifully written grievance card.

Going over the memory again, something didn’t feel right to her. Attempting to focusing on the details, the first thing that struck her was a feeling. Yeah hope was there, but something was under the surface. Doom? Concentrating harder, trying to scrap the last layer of haze. Was it the words or the dance that made it feel weird?

No matter how she scratched at it. Sunny couldn’t get to that memory. It was there. She could just about see it, but there seemed to be a huge black cloud covering it. After finding the card. Reading it. Then there was nothing. Not until she showed back up at Dorothy's. Focusing harder. No matter how she tried to remember, nothing would come to her.

Letting it go, Sunny shook her head and tried to remember the poem. Words from the poem, surfaced in her mind. The words felt solid, like something that you can hold. But she couldn’t see what they said. Focusing on what the poem said, she could see the words. Fading in and out. However, it was all out of reach.

Concentrating, an image hit her. All the words on the card seemed to suddenly become transparent. Puff, then they were gone. They didn't fade away. They disappeared. Another flash and the card was gone. Blinking hard trying to remember when abruptly more images came into her mind. The main image was of her dancing with Jackson in the rain. She could feel the rain and hear the mud sloshing under her shoes. For the first time in days, she was actually having fun. Celebrating Bryon.

Then came the blackness again. No matter how hard Sunny tried, she couldn’t remember pass that point. Its like knowing something happened. You can almost see it. But its sitting there right out of reach of her eye sight. But its blocked. The harder she concentrated, the more it faded. It was there. She knew it. However her minds eye couldn't bring it to the fore front.

Nothing was making sense to her. It frustrated Sunny that she couldn't remember. She couldn’t get over the fact of why. Knowing she could see it. Feel it. But she couldn’t remember more. Laughing at herself, maybe she already knew the answer to the question.

“Too much whiskey.”

Sunny hadn’t been that drunk in almost fifteen years. Ironically, it was the last time she had seen Dean. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sunny didn’t want that memory to surface. It was one memory she preferred for it to stay right in the past.

Pulling the sock down from her forehead, she looks at the splotch of blood on it. Instead of a huge spot of blood, the amount on it was down too nothing. Throwing the sock across the room, Sunny leaned her head back against the wall. This time she let out an even bigger huff. 'Where the hell is Dean?' Yeah, waiting really wasn’t a her strong suit at all.

About twenty minutes went by. Keeping her head against the wall, she watched and listened. The spirit was being unusually quiet. She wasn’t feeling it's presence. No cold spells. No flickering lights. Nothing. Feeling her eyes get heavy, she tried to keep herself a wake by shaking her leg. It didn’t work.

Her eyes closed, and she began to drift off a sleep. When, out of no where, a loud bang rang in her right ear. Then a huge crash. Startled, Sunny opens her eyes quickly. Nearly jumping out of her skin. Casting them down beside her. There was the noise that woke her up. At her side was a broken jewelry box.

It had landed face down, opened. Lifting it up, Sunny realizes who's box it was. Little Jessica's. She remember giving it to her for her first birthday. It had reminded her of the one she had when she was a child. It had a ballerina that dance when you wind it,as it played 'Memories' just like the one she had.

Now it was broken. The ballerina's leg was broken off from the music box. Twisting the knob, it played a few notes and died. Anger took over her, coming from deep within. She was pissed. Screaming on top of her lungs, as she threw the box to the other side of the room. It broke into a million more pieces on the floor.

“Fuck you!!”

It echoed throughout the bedroom, followed by silence. Taking a deeper breath and blowing it out slowly, Sunny sat there trying to get her composer. There was a lot of things that didn’t make sense. But right now, it was why this damn spirit wouldn’t let her out the room and why it keeps throwing things at her.

She gave up a while ago trying to figure out where it came from and why it was there. It blew that curiosity out of the water, when it wouldn’t let her out of the room. Now she didn’t care. All she care about right now, was to get out of there. She'll figure out the rest of the bullshit later.

There was a sudden light tapping on the door that caused her to jump. Aggravated, and not thinking she shouted;

“What!? Damn it!”

“Sunny, are you okay?” Dean's voice sounding concerned.

Instantly, Sunny became embarrassed. She could feel her cheeks warm up. In a not so normal voice she replied.

“Yeah.”

Dean didn’t push it. From what he could tell, she already was having a hard day. There was no way he wanted to add to it. Pushing her outburst to the side, he sat down on the floor, with his back against the wall. Leaning into the crack of the door.

“Do you think you can open the door back up?”

Taking a look around her, Sunny reached up, and turned the door knob. Opening the door, she stared out the crack. Dean was already leaning into the crack to look at her. She pushed on the door a little more, until the chain caught it. Finally, they can see each other a little bit more.

All Dean could do at that moment was smile at her. Sunny still looked the same. Sunset orange hair that hung in her face. It looks a lot longer from what he could tell. The deepest of brown eyes, with little light flecks of gold around the iris. A smile that always would warm his heart. She is more beautiful today than she was then. If that could even be possible.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”, her normally hidden southern accent coming out.

“How you holding up?”

Glancing around the room, she sighed;

“Up until a few minutes ago, fine.” (Her tone of voice changed, sounding aggravated.) “It needs to leave me the hell alone and let me out.”

The spirit apparently didn’t like what Sunny said. Out of no where, a child's shoe flew across the room at her. Catching it out the corner of her eye, coming toward her, she ducks down in time for it to hit above her head. Screaming at the air.

“Really...really? What the hell?”

Chucking, Dean calmly said, “Lets see if we can get you out of there, before it throws something else. Okay?”

Shaking her head in agreement, she whispered, “Okay.”

“Okay then.”

Dean scooted over in front of the crack door. Leaning in a little bit, so that she can hear him. He whispered.

“How much salt do you have?”

Reaching down, she picks it up and shakes it. To her dismay, it felt like she didn’t have very much left. Frowning at him.

“Hardly any.”

Nodding up at Sam, Dean mouthed more salt. Shaking his head that he understood. he headed out to the Impala.

“Sam said, that most of the bedroom is surrounding you.”

“It started out as a good idea, get a chair or two between me and whatever that thing is.” (Glancing around herself, quickly.) “But when I surrounded myself in salt, it got pissed off. It started to move things, and throw stuff.”

Dean's instincts took over. Why the spirit was there didn't matter anymore. This thing was being violent and eventually something is going to connect and really hurt her. He knew he had to start working on getting her out of there. Then they can work on getting the spirit to leave.

“Do you think you can lift the chain off?”

Taking a moment to think about it, she glanced to her left. It wasn't the chain that is going to be the problem. The spirit had moved a dresser in front of the door, but not against it. Looking at the gap, she frowned. It was only wide enough to allow the door to be open to where it was at. 'Smart ass spirit'. They're definitely not dealing with a dumb one.

“Even if I could get the chain off, there is a dresser in front of the door.”

Dean sat there for a second or two, scrambling to find a way to get her out. 'It was a good thing that she thought about getting salt to keep her sort of safe.' A question suddenly occurred to him.

“You're still in the circle right?”

“Yeah, I have it around me and across the bottom of the door.”

“Good. I know you don’t need me to tell you to stay in it.”

Exhaling loudly, “No Dean, you don't. It hasn’t been that long.”

“Okay, okay, I'm just teasing you.” (Abruptly, his tone of voice changed.) “When we get you out Sunny, you have loads of questions to answer to. You know that don’t you?”

“Fair enough. But I...I don't know, I mean, I don’t...”

A sudden sense fear hit her. Swallowing air, she sputtered out;

“I...I can't remember...half of the night.”

“Its okay Sunny, we'll figure this out when we get you out, okay?”

He risked placing his hand in the crack of the door, in an attempt to try and comfort her. It worked. Sunny reached out and wrapped her fingers in with his. Letting his index finger rub gently across the top of her hand. It was about then, when Sam rounded the corner of the hallway, with a container of salt in hand. Standing there, he motioned for Dean to come here.

Squeezing Sunny's hand, “Give me a few minutes while, me and Sam figure this out.”

Making his way over to Sam, he couldn’t help but think about how any of this could happened. None of it was making sense. Until he can get Sunny out and get to the bottom of this, it's won't.

“What's up?” Dean asked, reaching out for the salt container.

“Everything is quiet throughout the rest of the house.” (Hunching down, and whispering.) “She say how any of this happened?”

“No...She swears, she can't remember anything from last night.”

“Huh, blackout?”

“Maybe, I don’t know.”

“Do you have any ideas how to get her out?”

Dean suddenly smiled. Shaking his head yes. Something clicked in his head. Whether or not it would work, he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. But it was well worth the risk.

“Do you think you would be able to kick the door open?”

Narrowing his eyes at his brother before he answered.

“What do you think?”

“I think I have an idea that just might work.”

Saying nothing more, Dean turned around and went down the hallway. Sam watched Dean closely as he sat down in front of the door. Leaning into the crack, Dean whispered;

“Sunny.”

“Yeah?”

“Here's some more salt.”

He pushed it through the crack of the door handing it to her. Making sure that their fingers touched.

“Thanks.”

“I might have a plan, to get you out of there. Do you think you can hang on for a little bit longer, while we work it out?”

Sunny sat there for a few seconds before she answered. Letting her mind replay what he just said 'A little big longer.' His words echoed through her head. She hoped that he was true to his word. She wasn’t sure how much longer, she could take.

“I’m counting on you Winchester.”

Shaking his head, okay. He got back up and made his way back down the hall to Sam. They headed down the stairs as Dean started explaining his plan to get her out. Hoping that Sam too, might think it was a good plan. Ether way, good or bad, it was the only plan they got.

ii

About a half an hour later, Dean was back, peering in the crack of the door. The first thing he noticed was Sunny. She was leaning against the wall, with her arms crossed in front of her. Her eyes closed. Leaning into the crack, he whispered,

“Psst, Sunny.”

Turning her head toward the door, she quietly uttered, “What?”

“I think we have a way of getting you out.”

This caught Sunny's attention. She moved over to the crack. Lowering her head down she asked;

“How's that?”

Dean sat moved further in to the crack. He wanted to make sure that he could hear him as he began to explained the plan.

“First thing that needs to be done is moving the dresser out in front of the door.”

“How? Once I step out of the circle it is gonna try and snatch me.”

In a low deep voice, “I understand that. But Sam is going to kick in the door as soon as you get the dress out of the way. Then I'm going to grab you and pull you out in the hall way.”

Letting the plan roll around in her head. It could work. But the timing would have to be dead on. One second to fast or too slow, will cause one of them to get hurt. Sunny knew deep in her heart it would be her.

"And how are you gonna time this Dean? I mean, our timing would need to be perfect. If we end up just a half a second off, I'm screwed.”

“I have that figured out too. The container of salt I gave you...Have you had to use any of it yet?”

“Nah.”

“Good, If the timing is one second off, start flinging the salt at it. It should keep it away from you long enough for me to get you.”

Sitting, thinking about what Dean said, Sunny had to agree with tossing salt. She knew first hand, that the spirit didn’t like it at all. Letting a couple of scenarios run through her mind, she finally decided it really could work.

“How are we going to keep everything from going off without a hitch?”

“I'll tap on the wall.” (Dean tapped the wall, next to the door.) “First tap, you move the dresser. Second tap, Sam kicks in the door. When he does that, I'll reach in and grab you, pulling you through the door.”

“And if the spirit attacks?”

“Start throwing the salt.”

It got quiet again. Sunny had moved away from the door and started looking around the room. The first place her eyes landed, was where the dresser sat. She knew she could push it out of the way of door, but it meant stepping out of the circle to do it.

Sunny hadn’t tried once to get out of the circle. Not since she drew it. So, she didn’t have a clue what would happen if she did. If it did come after her, would tossing salt at it work? At this point, she was willing to try anything.

“Okay...lets do this.”

Both of them stood up together. Dean reached through the door, searching for Sunny's hand. Once he found it he squeezed it hard. Letting her know it will be alright. Then pulled her to the crack of the door.

“Listen for the taps. Okay? It's gonna work Sunny, trust me.”

Sunny choked out, “I do.”

Everybody got into their places. Sam got into a stance to kick the door open. Dean stood flat against the wall, on the other side of the door, so he can run in after its kicked open. Sunny was ready too. She had taken the top off the salt container. This way it will make it easier to toss it at the spirit. Placing the salt down in front of her t-shirt so it wouldn’t spill, she stood at the edge of the salt line, listening for the taps.

Everything happen fast, but slow at the same time. Tap. Sunny begins to push the dresser. She had just gotten it across the room when suddenly the air around her got really cold. Pushing the dresser hard, she slid it across the floor, ramming it into the wall. Turning around quickly, her hand was already pulling the container of salt out of her shirt.

She didn’t have time to jump back into the circle when the second tap came. A boom echoed throughout the room. Sam had kicked the bedroom door open. Slamming it against the wall, causing a hole where the door knob hit.

Before she had a chance to run toward the door, Sunny felt something grab her hair. It pulled her hard her back into the center of the room. Out of complete fear, she started to struggle against the invisible entity. Feeling the strands of her hair being pulled out of her head, she some how turned around and flung the salt widely in front of her. Instantly the pulling stopped and she could move freely.

Out of no where, Dean grabbed a hold of Sunny's arm, pulling her toward the door. She was half way there, when she landed face first on the floor. The spirit had grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her down. Dean ran over and grabbed both her wrists and pulled.

Suddenly, Sunny felt like she was being stretched in two. Pulling on one of her wrists, she tried to throw the salt at her feet. However, Dean had a good grip and wasn’t let her go. He was concentrating so hard to get her away from the spirit that he wasn’t paying attention that she wanted her hand.

Shaking her head at herself, Sunny couldn’t think of any other way to get Dean to listen. She pulled his arm to her mouth and she bit him. Unconsciously, he let go. Looking down at her as if to say 'What the hell?”

Instantly, she started throwing salt out into the air. It was landing everywhere. But it wasn’t stopping it, Dean and the spirit continued to play tug a war with her. Twisting her body, she swung her arm toward her feet. The salt pellets stinging her bare legs.

Suddenly she wasn’t in the air anymore more. The salt worked. The spirit had finally let go. Her feet slammed hard on the floor. With her landing square on them. The sudden shift of action, caused Dean to lose his footing. He was pulling so hard, that he wasn’t aware that the spirit let go. When it did, Dean yanked as hard as he could. Dragging Sunny to the doorway.

One step, two step, on the third step, Dean went stumbling. He fell hard out in the middle of the hallway, with Sunny landing square on top of him. A loud howl echoed throughout the house, shaking everything. The floors and walls. Following by the door slammed shut.

Silence filled the air for a few seconds. All of them holding their breath to see what the spirit does next. Nothing. Once they were all sure it was finished, and the spirit was gone. Sunny sat up, straddling Dean. A smile on her face a mile long. Leaning down, she grabs both sides of Dean's face. Pulling him toward her. She kisses him.

Suddenness of it, caught him completely off guard. Of course, Dean being Dean didn’t fight it. Reaching up, He places his hand on the back of her neck, gently pulling her closer. Letting her lips work against his. Tugging on them. Enjoying the moment, the softness of them and the taste of her kiss.

Slowly pulling her lips away, Sunny lays her forehead against his and with a out of breath smile, “Hello there Deano!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope your enjoying the story. Drop me a line and tell me what you think.


	3. Twisting of Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds something in the bedroom the spirit was in and Jackson finds his dog in dire straights.

Chapter 3: Twisting of Reality

i

About an hour passed since Sam and Dean had gotten Sunny out of the bedroom. The boys patiently waited in the kitchen, while she stole some yoga paints and a t-shirt that simply states 'Hi'. That is until she turned around another way and it would say high. When she came into the kitchen, immediately Sam caught it and chuckled. Dean? Well it took him about 30 seconds more. He smiled widely, nodded his head, then stuck up his thumb at her. She couldn’t help herself but giggle at both of them. They're expressions were priceless.

“What?” (Looking down at the t-shirt) “It just says hi-gh.”. Exaggerating the word high.

'Oh this is gonna be fun.', Chuckling to himself. He had forgotten about her dry sense of humor. It has been a good twelve years since Dean had actually seen her. Finally, he can really get a good look at her, without the blood, dirt, and a door. Within those years, Sunny had grown into a beautiful woman. More beautiful that he thought could be at all possible. 'How can that be?', He wondered.

Her long sunset orange hair came down to the middle of her back. Her eyes stilled twinkle, with the golden flecks that floated in her dark brown eyes. Little more curves he imagine she'd have. Tilting his head to the side, Dean raised his eyebrow. 'Damn shes has a nice and round ass.' Smirking to himself, Dean let his eyes look her up and down.

There was one thing that hadn’t change at all. Shaking his head, 'She still hasn’t grown one inch.' Sunny was still short and petite. Dean assumed that she couldn’t weigh more than a buck and that was stretching it.

“Well...How do I clean up, guys?” Sunny boldly asked as she ran her hands up and down in front of her.

Dean attempted to try and say something witty before Sam cleared his throat and said “Ohm, you, Ah...Yeah, You clean up pretty nicely.”

Laughing at Sam's embarrassment, Sunny choked out a, “Thank you Sam.” Sitting down at the small kitchen table, enjoying his rosy cheeks, she couldn’t help think how adorable he was.

Dean caught every bit of it. He loved it when Sam would stumble over words when a woman was a little aggressive and flirty. Deciding to break up this awe moment, Dean motions for Sunny to bow her head down so he could get a good look at the cut she had.

“Come over here and let me take a look at your forehead.”

She shook her head no and said, “That's quite alright Dean, I'm fine.”

Looking at Sam, Dean shrugs his shoulders at him in confusion and begins to justify to Sunny why.

“Come on Sunny, let's make sure its okay. It looked pretty bad.”

Placing her fingers over the band-aid, she had to admit he was might be right. It did look bad in the mirror. Her forehead was all kinds of purples, blue, and green. With it came a large goose egg that sat underneath all the swelling and discoloration. Not to mention the small hole that sat on top of it all.

“Its okay. Really it is.” Shaking her head no at him.

Dean stood back and crossed his arms in front of him. “Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, either way, I want to look at it and make sure.”

Sitting there, Sunny looked from Dean to Sam and back to Dean. She knew it was going to need a stitch. She just didn’t want to go through the bullshit. Besides she had already put a band-aid on it. Hoping for out of sight out of mind response. She stood up and began to move over to where the coffee pot was, when Dean placed his hand out, stopping her in her tracks.

“Whoa there Sunny.”

“Dean, trust me, its okay.”

She declared as she attempts to move pass him. Dean narrowed his eyes at her and gently grabbed her arm. In a low growl, he demanded;

“Come here.”

Taking a couple of steps back, she tried to ease her arm from his grasp. Dean wasn’t having it. He held to the back of her arm tightly. Sunny stood there making no attempt to move anymore. Just standing there shaking her head no. Shaking his head back yes, Dean motioned with his other hand for her to come over closer. Sunny looked quickly over at Sam for help. Who just stood there and shrugged his shoulders at her.

“It's not going to hurt you to have Dean look at it.”

Narrowing her eyes at Sam, she gave him a huff.

Well damn, your no help.” Narrowing her eyes at Sam.

She knew deep in her heart if she didn’t let Dean take a look at her head, he was going to pester her and keep pestering her until she did.

Breathing out loudly, Sunny said, “One quick look Dean and that’s it. Okay?”

Pulling her arm away from him and Sunny flops down in the chair in front of him. Looking down at her, he shook his head with an expression of 'yeah right.' Reaching out, Dean places his finger under her chin and gently pulled her head up. He moves some hair out of the way and pulls the band-aid off. Carefully placing his hand on the back of her head, Dean tilts her head toward the kitchen light to take a good look at the wound.

“Sunny, you really need to get a stitch or two.”

Letting go and stepping away from her. Dean turned to Sam and motioned for the emergency kit that he brought in from Baby. Sam gets it and sets it down in front of him. He begins to go through the kit, pulling out some gauze, tape, and anything else to help him clean the wound out to see how really bad it was. 

Watching him carefully, Sunny sucked her breath in quickly when Dean pulled out a hook. Right away, she began to shake her head no. There was no way she was going to let him touch her with that thing. She remembered clearly, the hack job he did her friend. A huge scar that ran the length of his leg. Not a bit of it straight. There was no way she was going to let him do that to her forehead.

“Nope, nada, noway, never, and no!” (pointing at the hook), “You're not coming with in an inch of me with that thing.” (Clenching her jaw tightly) “I’m not Jackson. So the only thing your gonna do...Is sterile-strip it.”

“Its okay Sunday. I wasn’t planing on stitching it. I promise.”

Dean teased. A huge grin was on Dean's face as he took her chin and tilted it back up toward him. He could see her golden brown eyes were wide with worry.

“It really only needs to be sterile-stripped. That's all. ”

There eyes finally meet. Nether dodging the other. Locked into a stare. Dean raised his eye brow, wigging them. It was all she wrote for Sunny. She lost it. It took her a few minutes to compose herself. Dean laughed right with her. He had forgotten how much of a free-spirit she is. Not once does she ever think before she says or does anything.

“OK Winchester...You still freaking got it okay. But I’m telling you if you hurt me, I hurt you.” She placed her hand out in front of her. Dean shook on it.

Sunny let out a long sigh. Looking up at the time on the microwave, she could see it was almost one o’clock in the afternoon. Dorothy and Leon would be coming back soon. There was one thing she didn’t doubt, in no certain terms, they wanted her gone before they got back. She knew how much she hated the life. She understood it. Sunny didn’t want to get them anymore involved than they were already.

Reaching out, she taps Dean on his leg, “How much longer?”

“Not to much longer. Why?”

A fake laugh escaped her, “Oh I know how Dorothy is. She has probably already said as much to be gone before she gets back. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”, Dean did know what she meant. “Some friend you got there Sun.”

“I understand her. That’s all that counts.”, she simply replied.

Dean's ear's turned a little red and he clenched his jaw. He was trying his best to keep his opinion to himself. Sam could see that. He can also see this was going to quickly escalate into a no win situation. Dorothy wasn’t a definition of a friend to Dean. He knew it and so did she. With Sunny defending her, is will get under his skin quickly and he won't be able to keep his mouth closed much longer. Sam needed to change the subject before it gets out of hand. Clearing his throat harshly enough to get both of they're attention.

“Well, while y'all gonna argue about what is what, I'm going to check out the upstairs and the bedroom. Make sure the poltergeist is gone. In the meantime, Dean can finish you up. Then we can go ahead and get out of here. So Dorothy can have her home back.”

“You really don’t have to check for the poltergeist Sam, it's gone already.”

Sunny mummer without thinking,. Mainly presuming Dean had already said something to Sam. Sam on the other hand, looked over at Dean and furrowed his eyebrows. The three bumps shown prominently in the middle of his forehead as he calmly asks her;

“What do you mean its gone already.?”

Moving Dean's hand out of the way., Sunny turned to Sam and innocently answered, “Because I felt it leave when the door slammed shut.”

“Oh yeah. That's right, Dean did mention you were a medium.” Sam remembers.

Shaking his head at Sam, Dean corrects him; “No...I said she was clairvoyant.”

“You can call it what ever, but I'm telling you there isn’t one spirit here.” Sunny said bluntly.

Sunny knew right then that Dean had never mentioned her to Sam. Whether that was good, bad or indifferent she wasn’t sure. Then knowing Dean as well as she did, it doesn’t surprise her. He never was one to give up his secrets easily.

“Well I'll go check anyways, just to make sure.” Sam said, sounding unbelieving of her talents. Pulling out his EMF meter, he leaves the kitchen.

Dean went to try finish doctoring Sunny up, when she knocked his hand away from her head. She looks up at him.

“Didn’t you say your were about done?”

“Let me put the last strip on.” Chucking at her.

Once Dean was done, he took a step back and looked at it. Satisfied the strips was on securely and it was going to stick. He began to put up the kit. Sunny reached up and pressed on it. Out of instinct, he reach out and slapped her hand down.

“Hey!” She snapped.

“Leave it alone.”

With her eyebrows pointed inward, she complained, “It freaking itches.”

“To bad, leave it alone or they wont stay on.” Dean demanded, pointing his finger at her.

Sunny glared at him, then stuck out her tongue at him. Dean couldn't help but raise his eye brows and smiled smugly back at her. Her cheeks suddenly flushed. There it was, the glow. How he missed that. He quickly came to the realization that he really missed her.

They have kept in contact over the years. It wasn’t easy. There was months sometimes years before they would talk. It didn’t matter. It seemed that no matter how long it had been or what was going on in their life, they could pick up their friendship right where they left it. Sunny was one of the few relationships that Dean kept to himself. He never told Sam. Why, he didn’t know.

When they met, Sam was off at Stanford doing his thing. Dad was out doing what he did best, hunting. That left Dean by himself picking up his own hunts. That is how they came across each other, when a werewolf was on a rampage. That is how they had met. Her, Jackson, Dorothy and Bryon. After that, they hung out together off and on for about a year or so. Until his Dad needed him back for a hunt.

Sunny could see he was deep in thought when she cleared her throat to get his attention. “You okay over there.”

“Yeah...Just thinking about the old days.” Smiling broadly.

She matched his smile as she said, “It was wild wasn’t it.”

“I'm surprised you never got out of the life like you said you were.” Dean bluntly said.

Before, Sunny could respond, they could hear a muffled sound coming from upstairs. Looking to see if the other heard it, when the sound grew a little louder. On instinct, they both ran to the living room and looked up the stairs.

“Dean! Sunny!” Sam yelled as he rounded the corner.

“What is it Sam?” Dean asked.

“Your not going to believe this.” Sam said, motioning with his head for them to come up.

He lead them to the bedroom they found Sunny in. When he opened the door, Sunny gasped. The room was perfect. Nothing was out of place. The bed was back against the wall and made. The dresser was up against the wall by the door. No salt lines. It was as if nothing happened in the room. Completely clean.

Looking over to the nightstand, the alarm clock sat telling her it was 1:20 pm. She went over and picked up the alarm. Turning it over in her hands, she looking over every inch. It looked brand new. No cracks or pieces missing. As was if it was never broken.

Going over to the dresser, she motioned for Sam to move. There behind him on the dresser was Little Jessica's jewelry box. 'This is impossible.' With her heart beating wildly in her chest, she opened it. There stood the ballerina, on its tippy toes, In the classic ballet stance. Arms out to the side, standing on one leg. Bringing it closer to her, there was no evidence that it was ever broken off at its leg. No chips or dents Feeling the side of the box she finds the peg. Turning it, the music box began playing the melody of the song, Memories. Snapping it shut, she hurriedly placed it on the dresser.

Sam noticed Sunny was a little shaken up. Coming up behind her, he places his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. “Are you okay?”

In utter disbelief, she muttered; “No I'm freaking out over here. This...This room was in shambles Sam. What in the hell can do this?”

She moved over to the edge of the bed and sat down. Her eyes wondered all around the room shaking her head. Something was wrong. She has known that sometimes a spirit could manipulate their environment. But that was a strong powerful spirit. This one didn’t have any type of strength. It couldn’t even materialize. This was so out of her realm of understanding. If it can do this she wondered, what else could it do?

ii

Pulling into the driveway, Jackson let out a long breath. 'So glad to be home.' He had been up with no sleep for 36 hours. Closing his eyes for a moment, breathing out slowly. His thoughts immediately turned to Sunny. 'Poor Sunday.'

She had took Bryon’s death bad. When she heard the news, she went in shambles. Her and Bryon was so close. Jackson was able to get her through the days leading up burials. It wasn’t easy. But they made it. The wake went without a hitch. It looked as if Sunny was handling everything well. She had her wall up, making sure everyone else was okay. Jackson wouldn’t say whether Sunny handled the wake great or bad. He could only say was, she handled it.

It was the scene at the cemetery that broke his heart. None of Bryon’s family came. His mom and siblings left right after the funeral services. Sunny handled it with understanding. Making the excuse for them, that some people cant deal with the burial part of it. When they pulled up at the grave site, Sunny lost it. She understood completely now why they didn’t come. It was where he was being buried at. Potter's Field. A place for criminals, homeless people and forgotten people. Those that didn’t have anyone.

It broke Sunny's heart that they didn’t love him enough to do right by him. He didn’t deserve any of it. Byron was a good man with some faults. No one was perfect. Jackson couldn’t understand any of it. Family is family no matter what.

The poor girl tried everything. She tried to stop the burial. Offering to pay for upgrade. The cemetery and funeral home both said they couldn’t. Then Sunny got quiet. Jackson shook his head at the thought. No tears or sobs. No hint at what was about to come.

Shutting off the car, Jackson begins to remember what happened next. Once the grave site services was done, everyone started to leave. With the exception of their little group. They all wanted to stay. To make sure everything was done right. Then it happened right after Bryon was lowered into the grave.

Jackson could remember how the silence of the moment was broken when the bulldozer started. The noise echoed throughout the cemetery. In between the revs, Jackson thought he heard someone was yelling. But he wasn’t sure. The loudness of the engine drowned out any sound. When he turned to say something to Sunny about all the noise, is when his heart broke. Sunny was running toward the bulldozer, screaming;

“How could you?”

Climbing up on it, she reached in and turned the engine off. From that moment on all you could hear was her wailing. Yelling and screaming at the man.

”You know your were fucking wrong dude! You know you were!”

Tears were streaming down her face. Her breath broken by her sobbing so hard. When Jackson realized why, he felt sick. Instead of shoveling some of the dirt in first, the worker pushed most of the top soil down on top of Bryon's casket. Since it was Potter's Field, they didn’t have vaults to place them in. So the casket is set down in the ground with no protection. When he pushed the dirt over in the grave, the force of it caused some of the top of the casket to fall in leaving Bryon exposed.

Sunny went ballistic. She threw his keys in to a thicket. Not missing a beat, she had the guy up by his collar. Jackson remembered how frantic everyone was trying to get her away from the worker before she hurt him. Once she wore herself out screaming at the worker, she hit the ground sobbing. When him and Dorothy went to pick her up, Sunny pushed them away from her and went over to Bryon's grave. She looked down in the hole.

'Damn Jack, you knew better.' Chastising himself while remembering what happen next. Everything flooded back to him at once. The scream she let go from her little body echoed throughout the cemetery. Collapsing to the ground when she was done.

It was all to much for Sunny to bare. Jackson had never seen anyone with that much grief. When he went over to pick her up, it like her body gave out or up. There was no life to her. When he got her settled in his arms, she folded up into him as if she was a baby. Her body racked with deep uncontrollable sobbing.

Then last night. Jackson wondered what he was thinking. Like liquor ever solved anything. It just makes you forget everything you did. In its place, it gives you a hell of a hangover and the same problems are still there. Usually doubled. Jackson was mad at himself. He should of never brought all that liquor.

He didn’t remembered much. What he did, it didn’t make any sense him. 'Why did they go out to the cemetery?' Then he remembered how Sunny insisted on it. She wanted to make sure Bryon's grave was done and done right. Next thing he remembered was about some dumb card. Sunny going on and on about it. 'Did she read them it?' Rain. 'Why were we dancing?' Then after that nothing.

Nothing really didn’t describe it. Blackness. He hadn’t blacked out from drinking since he was a kit. He didn’t really remember anything for sure, not until he pulled into Dorothy's drive. Really thinking about it, Jackson thought about how weird that memory was, because he was cold stone sober. Considering the amount of alcohol he drank, he should have been dog ass drunk. But he wasn’t. Sunny was gone. Passed out. But not him.

Taking a huge deep breath in, Jackson shook last's night memories away. All he wanted to do was go to bed. He really give it all that bullshit a thought later. Getting out of the car, Jackson made his way into his house. Instantly, he began to call for his dog Rockford. A huge border collie. Lassie had nothing on this dog. He was ten times the size.

“Rockford.”, he commanded.

One, two, three seconds went by. No Rockford. Putting a little more bass in his voice,.

“Hey Rockford, come here boy.”

That’s when Jackson heard it. A soft whine. Barely audible. He went searching in the living room, half expecting him to be on his bed, front of the fire place. However there was no dog, but a raging fire. It was blowing out into the living room full steam. The fire looked as if it was gripping the sides of the fireplace. Trying to find a way out. It was scorching the wall and some of the fire was licking at the dogs bed. Sending black puffs in the air. Quickly, he went to where the flue was and opened it up. The fire immediately backed off and roared up into the chimney.

Frantic, he looks around the living room seeing if perhaps the dog was hiding. Jackson went to all his favorite hiding places. He wasn’t there. Moving into the dining room, he pulls one of the dining room chairs out and looks under the table. No dog. He started to panic.

“Rocky...where are you boy?” His voice crackly with fear.

There it was a soft whimper. He moved into the hallway, pleading to the dog;

“Rocky, where are you?

Then came the loudest whine he ever heard from Rockford. Instinctively he knew right where the sound was coming from. Jackson ran to the bathroom. Not thinking the door would be locked, he went to pull the door open and it didn’t budge. It sent his shoulder reeling into the door. 'What the hell?'

Placing his hand on the door knob, he tried twisting it back and forth. It didn’t open, however there was another problem. Pulling his hand away fast, his hand felt like it was on fire. Touching the knob with is finger tips, it felt a little hot. Putting his hand flat on the door, he can feel heat coming off it.

Pulling the front of his t-shirt, over his hand in attempt to keep from getting burned. Jackson swished the door knob back and forth, pushing and pulling on it, until he finally heard a click. Twisting fast and pulling hard, it flew open. Expecting a fire, it surprised him there was nothing. The room was pristine.

Shaking his head, he immediately started to look for Rockford. Jackson could hear him crying behind the shower curtain. Pushing the curtain out of the way, he finds Rockford laying flat in the bathtub. Whimpering.

“Oh you poor thing.”

Kneeling next to the tub, he was able to get a good look at Rockford, his heart dropped. The heartache that followed about killed him. The dog was covered in ash. Getting him out of the tub, he begins to dusting him off. Jackson could see that parts of his hair were slightly burnt. Picking him up, Rockford whined. He tried to sooth him by rubbing his snout. Carrying the dog to the living room. They both sit down on the couch.

Turning on the lamp next to them, Jackson takes a really good look at him. All along the top of his back, where the fir line is, was black and burnt. His little ears tips had no hair and was blood red. Reaching in his pocket, he pulls out his phone. He dials the emergency vets hospital and explained what he found.

The next thing Jackson knew he was back in his car and on his way to the vets office. Wondering the whole time, who or what would do that to a defenseless animal.


End file.
